Saturday 19th October 2019

Welsh: Dydd Sadwrn 19eg Hydref 2019

02:35hrs: I stirred, stewing over a dream I’d had. It was a scary, horrible, nerve-tingling load of memories of my past failures, all mingled together, with the added lack of future in the mix. Not nice at all!

After freeing the memory-box of these thoughts, I moved the body, piece by piece, in a bid to assess what the ailments would be like and up to this morning. Thank heavens, RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis), seemed to be much kinder to me, especially after yesterday’s heavyweight-pounding he gave me. This morning stiff knees were so much less painful. But, Duodenal Donald was on top form, as was Back-Pain-Brenda. As I rose free from the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner, and got upright, there were no Dizzy Dennis episodes, and I caught my balance, as the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived.

I got the stick and hobbled to the wetroom. The evacuation was a bit more of a struggle this morning, and messier. Cleaning up after the session, I managed to stub the toe again against the seat-riser’s metal leg. (Oy-Yoy-Yoy!) Washed and off to the kitchen.

Kettle on and took the medications. Realising I had missed last nights dosages, so just added one Warfarin to the morning’s intake. Made the cuppa, and had an astounding wee-wee, a CMOUSTSTBOWV (Catching-Me-Out-Unwilling-Slow-To-Start-Then-Blasting-Out-With-Venom), it almost made me feel dizzy and drop the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket)!

I got on the computer, set things up. Then went on the WordPress Reader for a much-needed catchup session. The nex wee-wee was not long in coming, a BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) version.

Then made a start on this blog up to here, and got around to updating yesterday’s post.

I began updating the Friday blog. About an hour or so, and two more wee-wees, both of the ELDOP (Extra-Long-Drawn-Out-Persistent) mode; I again needed to visit the Throne Room! As I hobbled to the wet room, the urgency became suddenly higher, I am so embarrassed to say so, but I did not make it in time! And yet, only liquid seemed to escape? I got very nearly seated as the evacuation proper started! And it might have been a lot again and softish, but the losing liquid convinced me to make an appointment to see the Doctor. So, I washed, threw the dressing gown in the laundry bag, and changed into fresh PPs. Funny how when you’re on your own, and something disturbing and shamefaced-making happens, how you still feel the redness in your cheeks coming on!  (Almost Whimpering now!)

As I was exiting the wet room, I caught the clothes airer, and it tipped over, sending the trousers on it flying, and landing with almost perfect precision, on my stubbed toe! Bloody hell! What next, I asked myself. DDD (Depression-Deranged-Daftness) Mode Defcon level to Two! The EQ was worrying silent and inactive about these things this morning!

Back to the updating process. In a negativistic, defeatist, melancholic mood. I got the Friday post finished, eventually. Not without needing another two ELDOP wee-wees, and the innards I believe, brewing up for another evacuation!

I then went on the TFZer Facebook, for another catching up session. By-gum; that took me ages. Better get the ablutions done now, so I can catch the bus to town, in the hope of the store having some Potato cakes left on sale. Fingers crossed, I’ll be reet-miffed if they don’t have any. Hehe!

Things might not go so good today, oh, I’ve already said that sorry. It’s just that I had to have three wee-wees while doing the ablutions! There were far fewer dropsies, however. The razor, the showerhead and the body-spray can, which was a little encouraging! And the legs looked in better form, not a lot, mind, Oh, yes! Arthur Itis is definitely a lot easier this morning. As for clopidogrel, lumps, bruises, scars and blood papsules on the legs, they had also calmed down? It’s confusing innit?

I dressed, made a brew and checked on the Saturday bus L9 times, only four L9’s today. 10:32 the one to town, and I have limited time with it arriving in the City at 11:02, and the next one home is at 12:02hrs. Just an hour to go to Tesco for the puff pastry fingers, and the Bargain shop in search of the Potato Cakes!

Time to get things and self ready for the trip. Which didn’t take too long, but the time spent grubbing around, and double-checking things delayed me, and I ended up having to hasten to the bus stop! Humph! This did not stop me stopping to chinwag with Pete for a minute or so, in the Winwood Court Social Room as I passed through. Many residents were there, for the Saturday cooked breakfast. Mo, John (Herbert) and others, along with Pete (I may have got his name wrong, grand chap). Out to the bus stop and had a natter again until the bus arrived. Struggled a bit with the Arthur Itis knees that started to flair up en route.

I gt off of the bus last as is usual, and photographed Lynne and Welsh William as they shot away, as did all the others, very wise of them, considering my unstable walking with the three-wheeler guide. I’d have kept my distance too, to avoid being caught with the trolley wheels. Giggle!

I walked through the Vic Centre (Mall) to the Tesco store. Where I was pleased to find some Puff Pastry fingers, and a bottle of handwash liquid. £5.30 less, I hobbled out and onto Milton Street. Where this ignorant slob, git and animal of a Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist nearly had me over! Further along, this L-plated scooter rider seems to have cured his parking problems, by parking on the pavement near the taxi rank?

Oy-yoy-yoy! There were three young men, druggies or alcoholics I think, judging by their appearance, goggle-eyed, threatening behaviour, and lack of ethics as they were asking folks, or rather demanding money from them. The tallest of the three came to me and muttered something, that was incoherent and put his hand out, palm upwards. I suggested he goes forth and multiply! (Although I condensed to two-words!) This was not bravado or courage. It was my disgust in their comportment. The moment I realised what I said, I nearly wee’d myself! Haha! He leaned down closer to me, gave a blink of disbelief, and just walked away, to join his fellow erks as the turned into a hotel car park. The female Intu security officer from came and asked if I was alright. It then dawned on me as I looked around, that the yobboes were being shadowed by a group of the Security people. She told me to take care and chased after the other officers who had followed the trio of twits into the car park. Interestingly, I can’t recall seeing a single proper or imitation police officer anywhere on my walk around the City today? Although there may be some in the photographs, I took, and there were many made today.

I crossed over the road and called in the Little Waitrose store to get a pack of their £2 Kenyan peas. Which I did, but they had gone up to £2.09 today. Still, if they taste as good as Tuesday’s, they will be acceptable to me. I love ’em!

Out, and down the road to the Bargain Store. Where I had luck again, in getting the things I wanted to. A packet of Italian flakey pastry swirls and several packs of the Bangladeshi made potato biscuits. The trolley bag was now filled-up to its limited capacity.

Paid-up and outside, where I took this ‘moody-shot’ on Milton Street. Not bad at all, I think? The hands were not shaking too bad at all now. But the famously (to me) moody Arthur Itis was growing more of a hindrance as the day went on. I limped down to Upper Parliament Street, where I took a people filled shot of Clumber Street. Then crossed over the pelican lights, and took a closer shot of the Nottinghamian shoppers, alcoholics, illegal immigrants, students, house-breakers, mobile-using, gang members, druggies, knife-carrying, spitting, nicotine addicts, beggars, muggers, and shoplifting citizenry.

I walked along Upper Parliament Street, to the Queen Street bus stop. Certain, that after checking earlier this morning on the web, that the next bus goes out at 12:05hrs.

But I had got it wrong again! The next bus isn’t until 13:05! Well over an hour to wait. I could have caught a 40 bus in twenty-minute time, but the thought of crossing the road when I get off on the hill and bend in the road put me off that idea. The knees and danger of crossing over Mapperley Rise determined I would have a walk around town on the flat and take some piccies instead. Then catch the 13:05hrs L9 home.

I started my slow, steady, no-rush, time-killing hobble into the Slab Square.

The atmosphere I felt around me, was one of fear, suspicion and trepidation. The EQ guided me in thinking this, I don’t know why though? I opted to pay a visit to the Poundland Shop.

As I made my way along Long Row, I spotted the MOD Pizza palace, where trade seemed about dead as a dodo, again. This place can’t last much longer, surely!

I pressed on, casualty sauntering and with the trolley doing its own thing as the leg started to lose its nerve contact again. I got to the Poundland store and hobbled around at my leisure. I ended up buying: Wholemeal sliced cobs, Pringles, mini stilton cheddars, cocktail sausages, honey-roast almonds and ready-made BLT sarnies. After paying for them at the self-serve checkout, I spent more time trying to sort out and get everything into the carrier and trolley bag, than I spent shopping! The result was a wobbly to control trolley. He-He! 

I had a hobble around the Slab Square and took some more photographs.

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Then up Queen Street to the L9 bus stop.

From where I took a snap of another ignorant, law-breaking, uncaring, smarmy,  nasty,  young Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist, weaving his way through the pedestrians on his way up Queen Street.

The bus arrived, and I ensconced myself in the corner side-saddle seat. For about ten bus stops, I was the only passenger, but the bus soon filled-up with folks, and by the time we got back to the flat, it was well filled, with many Winwoodonian’s too. I struggled off the bus, the Arthur Itis knees no better.

I walked back through Winchester Court along the link passage to the big Winwood Court lounge. Where it looked all abandoned at first.

But around the corner on the left, I spotted a lady and Big John (Herbert), starting a big jigsaw puzzle. We exchanged greetings, and I carried on, due to a sudden need for a wee-wee. As I did my best to hurry along, I realised that I had gone all that time while I was out, without needing to go, amazing! Baffling, mind?

The rest of the trip up to the flat, is a blur, as desperation turned almost into a panic – Would I make it to the WC in time!

And, Holly Mackerel, it was close-call! It was an ELPJL (Extra-Long-Powerful-Jet-Like) wee-wee that actually tired me out taking it!

Weakened, tired and weary again (which is not unusual at this time of day for the old scrote). I was not up to doing the hand washing, that’ll have to wait. Washed and stripped off, into the jammies, and got the nosh prepared.

Which didn’t take me long. Warmed up the last of the cheesy potatoes, made twp sarnie cobs, opened the ready-made BLY sarnies and added a ready-cooked chicken thigh. A Limoncello dessert and orange juice.

Got settled in the Xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working recliner £300, c1968, second-hand, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty recliner, TV on, and started to feast on the meal.

Turning on the sleep-inducing TV, I realise now, far too late, might not have been such a good idea! Oh, no! I fell asleep while eating my nosh. Waking an hour or so later, to find the food distributed between my stomach and legs, the arms of the recliner, the chair the legs were on, and the carpet! It looked more like the meal had exploded rather than the tray just slipping off the stomach! I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So, I laughed! At first…

I roused myself (much angering Arthur Itis) and began to sort out the mess. During which, the need for a wee-wee arrived. I was making my way to the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency Bucket) and gave my toe a stubbing on the corner of the Ottoman. I managed to avoid shouting out loud, but inwardly cursed. (You know, things like, flipping heck and Oh bother!)

The wee-wee was another one of the ELPJL (Extra-Long-Powerful-Jet-Like) mode. I had a job hanging on to the bucket! Boy, it was seemingly endless, dragged out affair. Fagged me out too!

Getting back to the clearing up the meal-mess, I trod on what was once a buttered tomato cob, and went over, via the Ottoman on my back! Knocking over the flat airer and clothes on it, which landed on my face and head! There was no question as to laughing or crying this time! Humph! I had to crawl to the walking stick and use the cabinet to assist me in getting my lumbering flobby-body back up again off of the floor. Arthur Itis was really pissed-off with me now!

All the bending to pick up the detritus spread all over, took me ages. And then Back-Pain-Brenda joined in with Arthur Itis in giving me a lot of pain. I had to fetch some spray to clear up the tomato seeds and juice stains. Then getting back up again was even more difficult than last time! I did consider using the alarm wristlet to call for assistance but decided against it. Imagine someone calling and seeing the state I had got myself into! Too embarrassing! However, I now had room to follow the physio advice on getting up, so I rolled to the chair, and got up piecemeal, using the cushion part, then the arms of the seat, and managed to rise again. A bit like a Walrus, without the tusks. Hehehe!

Then I needed a wash-up and another change of clothing! I was fed-up. I was in agony. Now I had even more handwashing to do in the morning! I was pissed-off, too!

Getting back to sleep was prevented for an eon it seemed, by the mind going over the farcical situation I found myself in, repeatedly.

Boohoo!